


An Effective Interrogation

by TNTMech (AlexAnaheim)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom!Soundwave or get outta my face, Extremely Dubious Consent, Large Cock, M/M, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexAnaheim/pseuds/TNTMech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Soundwave wants a prisoner treated right, he and his tentacles have to do it themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Effective Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> The world had two choices: it could either give me dom!Soundwave or it could step aside while I give him to myself.
> 
> Unfortunately, the latter was necessary, and this is the consequences of it.

Wheeljack winced as the woosh of the only door sliding open battered his audios. Not bothering to lift his helm up, he only flicked his optics towards the lithe figure approaching with muted footsteps and a blank, sparkless stare. Though he was expecting Starscream and his vocaliser that in itself was a torture device, seeing Soundwave in his place wasn't much comfort.

“Come to smack me around some more?” he mumbled past the stale energon in his mouth, dangling lifelessly from his chains.  
He didn't expect an answer from Soundwave, and the other mech didn't give one. Instead Soundwave paused, watching him like a grim statue. Wheeljack fired a glare at him the whole time, about to spit at his peds before they started walking around him. The chained Wrecker didn't bother following him, but he was expecting the familiar sizzle of an electric prod being driven into his neck or some other Decepticon device he couldn't even imagine…

Not the tingling slither of something climbing up his spinal strut.

“Woah, woah, what the frag-?!” His protest was captured in a pair of metal claws forcing their way into his mouth, digging into the carved hollows of his scars while much thinner tendrils caught his glossa. His optics almost popped from their sockets, but his view was forced forwards from the thick cable around his neck. The restraints on his wrists clattered together as his servos flailed blindly, but his struggle did nothing to budge the creeping feeling now covering his thighs. If he remembered correctly, the silent weirdo had two of those damn tendrils under his control, and the second one was now curling around his lower half. As saliva pooled in Wheeljack's mouth the thin strings trapping his glossa crackled with electricity, a sharp burst in his taste nodes distracting him from the steel grips clawing impatiently between his legs, with his thighs pulled apart by the tendrils looped around them.

It was hard not to notice something trying to enter your aft, though. He couldn't see, but he felt the same claws that forced their way into his mouth also propping open a channel between his rear plates, straight into the tight space within…

‘ _Don't you fragging dare, you freak-_ ’ As much as he groaned, panted past the choking length squeezing his neck and tried to pull his hips away, Soundwave managed to wriggle his tentacle past his hooks, up into the taut hole. Even with his tongue immobilised, Wheeljack’s howl of curses managed to make the Nemesis hull vibrate as his vocaliser was taken over by the fierce sting spreading up from his violated core. Wreckers were built to endure anything, but the pain as his aft literally split itself was something far removed from a simple battlefield injury. He couldn't even grit his denta and bare it, with Soundwave reverse-gagging him.

His cry did nothing to stop the oddly damp cable invading him from pushing deeper, glowing ribs rubbing against his compact inner walls and smearing them with some kind of fluid, but the one molesting his mouth at least pulled away from the danger of his gnashing denta.

As soon as his lips were free, Wheeljack gasped even with the fiery ache in his aft fading to a dull, constant throb. “You… sick kinky motherfragger…” It was a snarl hurled at Soundwave behind him, yet as it rumbled from his hoarse vocaliser he noticed a disturbing undercurrent of moans starting to surface. Even though the tentacle was unwelcome, now that it had filled the entirety of his lubricated aft, it was starting to loosen the space it swelled within, and the raised ribs pulsed against senstive nodes he'd never felt before… if it was anyone but Soundwave doing it, he might have said it felt good. Though he couldn't hide it well, considering his codpiece was becoming much smaller than it was before his ‘interrogator’ showed up. And the moans were growing louder than he could contain, peaking when Soundwave pulled the tentacle back before sliding it in again, against deeper and more stubborn nodes. His EM field must have been a mess against Soundwave’s stable, almost non-existant magnetism- whatever it was that had the mech press himself closer or the knife-thin digits curving down his stomach plating and tracing the edge of his codpiece, he couldn't stop them pulling the panel aside and releasing his incriminatingly erect spike. 

The teasing paused for a whole nanoklick before the digits hesitantly circled the cord’s base, as if Soundwave wasn't expecting Wheeljack to be hard already.

“What? A mech... can't enjoy gettin’ fragged?” the Wrecker panted, squashing yet another moan as something like a perverse pleasure started to soak into his weary coolant-stained frame.

Again Soundwave didn't respond, but there was a very slight murmur from his intakes as his digits tightened on his spike, and his penetrating tentacle retracted fully from his aft with a lewd slurp. Wheeljack's own intakes emptied in a rush of hot air as the stretched empty space tingled, but the discomfort didn't last long. His spike was at Soundwave's mercy, but the tentacle now busied itself with wrapping around it and squeezing the swollen, vein-bulged length. Ribs rubbing against ribs and the violet glow mingling with the cyan of his dripping cum, Wheeljack wasn't sure if he even wanted to stop moaning. It was more than just having his cord stroked; Soundwave massaged it with his tendril, as if a valve was spasming steadily around him, and his digits worked the swollen pierced bulb as it oozed uncontrollably between them.

“Frag, Soundwave…” Wheeljack was so close to begging for an overload, drooling over his scars and still bathed in the pleasure of being penetrated, that the second much thicker length pressing into his aft caught him off guard.

He recognised it as another spike, just as erect as his own, a nanoklick before it impaled him.

“MMMMF-!” The moan came so fast it spluttered in his vocaliser, and all his senses were drowned in the unprecented agony flooding through his frame. “Oh, Primus… where do you even keep something that damn big…?” Soundwave’s spike was impossibly huge, especially for such a thin frame, yet the servos closing around him and the iron grip on his hips had him doubting just how weak the ‘Con actually looked. An unrelenting embrace held Wheeljack tight on Soundwave's cock, forcing his aft even further down on it as the outline bulged out in his stomach plating. He could feel every single vein and rib on the shaft as it pushed against his loosening walls, and a hot trickle transfluid was already happening inside him. The pain tensed and paralysed his legs, letting Soundwave spread them even wider as he tore into his backside. Energon dripped down his thighs as his protoform split, mingling with the bright violet ooze of cum as Soundwave finally and proudly hilted himself. With the 'Con's helm so close to his audios, the Wrecker could hear ragged baritone vents that definitely weren't coming from him, and he felt digits actually probing over the disturbing abdomen swell of the spike pulsing away inside. 

Wheeljack had never been so fucked before in his life… yet, as the pain faded again into the background fuzz of his overloaded nodes and he finally heard Soundwave starting to groan behind him, he didn't mind it nearly as much as he should have. His aft adjusted to the new throbbing cord filling it, and was left a tingling hollow when Soundwave decided to pull his hips back just enough to only have his swollen bulb left inside. The heat from his shaft radiated against Wheeljack's shaking aft plates, only for the short moments that it wasn’t left submerged inside him and setting his reawakened nodes on fire with every aching stroke. He actually found a use for the chains around his servos- pulling himself up on them and then sinking back down, he could ride Soundwave's cock even faster than the mech himself was pounding.

And with the tentacle still rippling around his own spike, already soaked in blue cum, it was a wonder either of them managed to last longer than half a breem. In fact, a whole breem passed before Wheeljack let himself give into the unbearable pressure building in his tanks, and transfluid spurted in bright splotches against his heaving chestplate. Only then did Soundwave respond in turn, hissing intakes like a dying mech given life as he exploded in the Wrecker's gaping aft, turning his thighs and the floor underneath into a sticky neon testament to just how well he can frag.

The giant spike from only the most horny of bot’s dreams pulled free of Wheeljack's rear, still dribbling, and the Wrecker was still trying to recover control of his vocaliser when something popped out of his neck.

“What the…?” The intense climax had left him dazed, but the emptiness in his processor was from more than just a brutal fuck. He blinked, barely budging the blurriness in his vision, but it was all he could do without making something im his body protest from exhaustion. 

Soundwave, meanwhile, somehow fit his deflated spike back into his codpiece as his tentacles retracted from Wheeljack's trembling frame- including the one plugged into his neck’s dataport during the entire exchange. The Wrecker has given up every single one of his memories, and he didn't even realise it.

Soundwave wished Wheeljack could have seen the smirk spreading behind his visor, but he made do with an insulting farewell- that is to say, no farewell at all.

Wheeljack couldn't stand not having the last word, though. “What, no kiss?”

Soundwave stopped, inclining his helm sideways in the wrecked Wrecker’s direction. Even with a limp frame and stained thighs, he was flashing his own smirk under the shadow of his faceplate. 

There was a scuff of vents intaking harshly before Soundwave turned back to the door, leaving Wheeljack in a mess much bigger than just the one on the floor.


End file.
